Murder, He Wrote
by Tracy Diane Miller
Summary: Miguel Diaz's POV regarding the events surrounding Scanlon's murder.
1. Default Chapter

Murder, He Wrote  
  
Summary: Miguel Diaz's POV regarding the events surrounding  
  
Scanlon's murder. "Fatal Edition" inspired this very short story BG.  
  
Disclaimer: Early Edition characters belong to their creators. No  
  
copyright infringement intended. No profit is being made.  
  
Author: Tracy Diane Miller  
  
E-mail address: tdmiller82@hotmail.com  
Murder, He Wrote  
  
Chapter One  
  
Not too many people at the Sun-Times mourned Scanlon's death. In  
  
fact, I don't think that there was anyone who said that they were  
  
going to miss him. I mean, the man was poison. It wasn't like he  
  
had any friends at work. I know that none of the women here liked  
  
him. Thought that he was about the biggest sexist pig that you'd  
  
ever find. And he treated everyone like they were beneath him, like  
  
we were worthless and he was great or something. Guy wins a Pulitzer  
  
and acts like he owns the place. Even Cath couldn't stand him and  
  
she usually got along well with everyone. Hey, I may be just a  
  
photojournalist, but I could always read people. You kinda pick up  
  
that skill growing up on the streets of New York. I could've bet  
  
money that sooner or later that someone would kill Scanlon. I just  
  
never figure that it'd be Hobson.  
  
You wanna know about Hobson? The guy is nuts, but he always seemed  
  
harmless enough. First time I saw Hobson was when I was stuck in  
  
traffic. The boss was breathing down my neck about getting pictures  
  
and I found out that there's this idiot holding up traffic because he  
  
wanted to play crossing guard to a school of ducks. Hobson was the  
  
idiot. Okay, so it's not Nam or the Berlin Wall, but you have to make  
  
due when you have a slow news day. Boss wanted pictures so I gave  
  
him pictures. Got some nice shots of Hobson, too. I called  
  
him "Duckman". "Duckman to the rescue".it was a catchy title if I do  
  
say so myself. But it was something about Hobson; that guy's face  
  
just set off bells in my head. Ding dong ding dong. Just kept  
  
hearing those bells. They wouldn't leave me alone so I did a search  
  
on Hobson. I found out that every time something strange happened  
  
in Chicago, Hobson was right in the middle of it. I could smell a  
  
story there.  
  
I didn't expect Hobson to call me, though. He was all upset because  
  
he didn't want me to publish those pictures. First he gave me some  
  
story about not wanting his wife to see them. I believe that it was  
  
something about her thinking he was out of town and finding out that  
  
he was in Chicago. But then he admitted that the problem was his  
  
mother. He told me that he didn't want her to see the pictures. Guy  
  
sounded terrified. He said that his mother would know that he lied  
  
to her if she saw those pictures and that he would be in a lot of  
  
trouble with her. I tell you, Hobson's got some serious "Mommy  
  
issues". I don't even think that I want to go there.  
  
Anyway, you won't believe what happened the next time I crossed paths  
  
with Hobson. 


	2. Installment 2

Chapter Two  
  
It all started because of a pickle.  
  
Yeah, you heard me right, a pickle. Here I am a photographer, an artist. My camera is like my baby. I take pictures of the big stories- murders, fires, and other disasters- not fruit.  
  
Vegetables. Whatever they are. That was just about the biggest insult to my talent. Leo gave me some spiel about how that stupid pickle factory was going to revitalize the neighborhood and how that was news. Then he said that I was lucky to even get an assignment from him because I threw a stapler at Hollandsworth. I don't care if Hollandsworth is the managing editor; the guy is still an idiot. And he wanted to fire me? I'm the best that they've got. I'm a risk taker. You need someone like me in this business. But those idiots just can't see that. Anyway, I went down to that factory. I'm standing on this ladder to get a better shot of that stupid pickle and who should come running in but Hobson. Guy's yelling like a lunatic, telling everybody to get out of the way. Before I knew it, I lost my balance and fell into the pickle vat!  
  
I told Leo again about Hobson, how there must be a story there. But instead of him listening to me, he fired me because I blew the pickle shot. I ended up having to take a job as a photographer at the Chicago Museum snapping pictures of little kids. Hey, I don't mind kids; kids are okay, sometimes, but these kids...can you say juvenile delinquents? You had a few that were fighting and one kid, Walter, who was afraid of cameras. Afraid of cameras and his mother brought  
  
him to a photographer? Anyway, it took some doing, but I finally calmed the kid down and start snapping his picture. I think that he was even starting to have fun and who should show up and get the kid all upset? You guessed it. Hobson! Just like that, I'm fired again! Of course, I took a swing at Hobson; the guy's lucky that's all I did. I was out of a job and Laura kicked me out. I had to pawn my camera. Man, I tell you, that hurt. I felt like a daddy selling his baby into the black market. and Louie...that guy would probably sell his own mother down the river for a buck. I said goodbye to my baby for a lousy $200. Louie said that I had 30 days to reclaim her.  
  
I didn't think that things could get any worse, but the next thing I knew, some guy comes out of no where with a knife demanding the film from the pictures that I took at the museum. I thought that it was one of those crazy parents. Guy cut me! Once again, there's Hobson screeching the wheels of his van and telling me to get in. Okay, so I was glad that Hobson showed up when he did, but we were hardly "even" as he put it. He got me fired and kept sticking his nose in my  
  
business. He said that he came to offer me a short-term job. Wanted me to take pictures of his cat! A cat?! I may have been having a tough time with my finances, but I've got my pride.  
  
What I didn't know at the time was that Hobson and I had stumbled onto a big story. The lunatic with the knife was connected to Bruce Bryce, big time investment guy who had sticky fingers with his clients' money. The feds investigated him, but Bryce "died" when his yacht blew up. Body was never found. Except that I had the proof on film that the guy was still alive.  
  
The Bryce story was big. I could smell the exclusive. But that was small potatoes compared to Scanlon. And once again, Hobson was right in the middle of the mess.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Like I said, I'm not surprised that Scanlon ended up dead. I just didn't expect that Hobson would be the guy to do it.  
  
I was working late sitting at my desk when I first heard the news. Came over my police scanner. Scanlon had been killed by a single gunshot wound to the chest. His body was found at the Cicero train yard. Gun was found not too far from the body. And Hobson had been caught kneeling over the body. Now, I've told you that Hobson is nuts, but I never pegged the guy for stupid, or suicidal. Hey, you murder someone and you don't exactly wait for the cops to catch you bending over the stiff. Something just wasn't adding up.  
  
Still, Hobson had motive. Remember how I told you that he nearly went ballistic when I planned to publish those shots of him helping the ducks? Well, Scanlon intended to do a column on Hobson with the angle of "Chicago's Psychotic Superman" or something like. Scanlon was going to imply that Hobson sets up disasters so he could then fly in and save the day. The thing is, the Hobson story was always mine. I'm the guy who investigated Hobson in the first place even  
  
when Leo refused to believe that there was a story. I'm the guy who had worked hard compiling all the information for the Hobson file. Except Cath made the mistake of letting Scanlon know that. Scanlon wouldn't have had anything on Hobson if he hadn't blackmailed me so he could steal my file.  
  
The Hobson story just keeps getting better and better. When I heard that Hobson had escaped, jumped out of a courtroom window while awaiting his arraignment, the whole news room went crazy. I tell you, the shot of Hobson's swan dive, now there's a picture that I wished that I had been there to take. Anyway, everyone figured that the guy had to be guilty that's why he was running. The life of a fugitive, that must be rough. Do I think that he can get away with it?  
  
Maybe. Maybe not. Cops here aren't exactly Einstein. Apparently, the reason why Hobson was able to escape was because they left him sitting alone while they tried to stop a fight. Yeah, that makes sense; you rush to break up a fight and leave the murder suspect unattended. The thing is, Hobson doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who is big on planning, or thinking things through. I think that he just flies by the seat of his pants most time.  
  
If Hobson were smart, he'd be on his way to Mexico or some island somewhere. I like the guy; I do, but basically Hobson's nuts. He had to be nuts because instead of getting his butt out of the  
  
country, I found him hiding in my car waiting for me.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
I had been assigned to take shots of the Taiwan Soccer Team's visit to Chicago. Okay, so maybe it wasn't breaking news, the kind of assignment that a guy with my talent deserves, but hey, at least it was better than taking pictures of some stupid pickle. Sorry, but I still get steamed when I think about that insult to my abilities. Me, Miguel Diaz, photojournalist, snapping shots of a pickle!  
  
Anyway, the ladies on the soccer team were excited when I told them that their picture was going to be in the paper. The whole thing didn't take too long. I was glad because it was my last assignment for the day and I was ready to go home.  
  
The last thing that I expected to find was a fugitive hiding out in my car, but there he was. You gotta hand it to Hobson; that guy does take risks! Here you had the whole Chicago police force out looking for him and he was right there in plain view sitting in my car.  
  
I could see that Hobson was nervous; no big surprise there; I'd be nervous too if I had the cops chasing me. But I've learned that nervous, crazy people aren't something that you want to mess around with. He asked me if I minded driving because that would make him feel a lot better (makes sense that it would be harder for the cops to locate a moving target). I let him know that I didn't have a lot of money on me right now and he said that he didn't come there for my money. I just wanted to make sure that I told him that up front so that he wouldn't get upset later. The news reports were warning the city to be careful because Hobson was a dangerous guy. Some reports even said that he might have a gun. I wasn't about to take any chances. If Hobson did kill Scanlon, I wasn't about to become the next person on his list.  
  
Right away Hobson said that he needed my help that he needed to know what story other than him Scanlon was working on before he was killed. Hobson said that he knew that Scanlon had been researching a murder-for-hire operation and that maybe that was what got him killed. Hobson thought that there had to be information on Scanlon's computer or in his desk somewhere. I let him know that the cops had already been there and confiscated Scanlon's computer along with all of his notes. Then Hobson asked me to nose around, ask questions of my editor. I was still trying to be calm and to keep Hobson calm. But when I told him that he should turn himself in and go for an insanity plea, he got angry and asked me that if he were guilty would he be sitting there talking about a newspaper article.  
  
A squad car pulled up next to my car. Again, I tried to act calmly, but my heart was racing. I knew that Hobson had to be sweating bullets. My fingers gently touched the horn. All I had to do was to push it and alert the cops. Hobson tried to convince me that he wasn't crazy, just desperate and that Scanlon had ruined more lives than just his. If I helped him, I'd find out who murdered Scanlon. It would be the biggest story that I ever had.  
  
The squad car sped off. I had lost my chance to turn in a fugitive. Maybe I was as crazy as Hobson. Maybe I had lost what was left of my mind because I agreed to help him. In return, Hobson promised me the exclusive on the story.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
I could hear the word "exclusive" echoing in my ears as I walked back inside the Sun-Times Building. Man, did that sound sweet! The Hobson story was big. I was finally going to show those idiots in the suits what I was made of and once they saw my byline on that story, they'd know how gutsy a photojournalist I was and that I was a guy who took risks.  
  
Still, I had to play this thing right. I wanted a headline and a byline, but I didn't want to be the headline. I didn't want to be arrested and thrown into the slammer for aiding and abetting a fugitive. Yeah, I like Hobson, but I wasn't going to jail for him.  
  
I knew that Hobson's idea wasn't going to work. I couldn't just go up to my editor and start asking questions about what Scanlon was working on before he was killed without arousing suspicion. Fortunately, the moment that I walked into the news room, I had an idea. Didn't I tell you that I could always think quickly on my feet?  
  
I walked towards Cathy. Let me tell you a few things about Cath. Not too much happens around the Sun-Times news room that she doesn't know about. It's not that she goes snooping around for information. It's just that people share things with her. They trust her. They feel comfortable telling Cath stuff; I guess that she just has one of those non-threatening kinds of faces.  
  
Also, Cath is a major computer nerd. She knows everything that there is to know about computers, particularly the Sun-Times computer system. The girl has a bright future as a hacker if she ever gets bored being an interim reporter. Just kidding.  
  
The other thing, Cath has a little crush on me. I've known that for awhile. Hey, it's not my fault that she likes me, right? Okay, so maybe I kinda take advantage of her crush whenever I need to, but I'm not the first guy who has ever done that.  
  
It was easier convincing her to help me than I thought that it would be. I laid a little guilt trip on her about how she told Scanlon about my Hobson file in the first place and how that was my story so I wanted to see if Scanlon had done anything with it. She hesitated for a moment before saying that Scanlon was beyond caring. She asked me what I wanted and I told her that I needed the backups for every file that Scanlon had updated within the past two weeks. A few moments later, the printer was churning out pages of information.  
  
As I was leaving the news room, I had no idea what I held in my hands, but I was about to find out that this story was much bigger than even I could have imagined. 


End file.
